The Kink Series
by Logie Wan Kenobi
Summary: Being used. Feeling pain. Destroying yourself. A victim. Everyone has a dark story.
1. Slavery - Kendall

Kendall looked up the best he could from where he was on his knees. He whined as the chain on his collar was pulled, but only enough that he had to get on the tips of his toes. He couldn't stand up straight, but the strain on his muscles was agonizing immediately. His body was worn out, but it didn't matter. His jeans were ratty and old, the zipper busted and button missing. His body was covered in bruises and scratches, whip lashes on his back. Hickies covered his neck and chest. His lips were kiss  
swollen, bright red. Eyes, usually dilated at this point, were wide, tired, blood shot. The man pulled on the chain again and he whined,but didn't object. He knew better then to do that.  
"..beg for it..."  
He whined again. He didn't want anyone he knew to see him in this state. Half naked, dirty and broken, beat and bruised, wanting and needing and so out of his mind.  
"Please..", His voice cracked. He wanted to use his hands but they were bound behind his back. The rope holding them had  
rubbed them raw. He licked his dry and cracked lips, could taste a bit of blood from when he had been shoved back earlier. Roughly.  
"Louder!"  
The chain was pulled to punctuate the word and a foot pressed against his chest, pulling him up, and pushing him back, making his body go in two different directions.  
Pain shot through his body from all the activity earlier.  
"PLEASE!"  
The foot dropped and the chain loosened and he dropped forward, but kept his eyes up, looking at the man. The man reached down and cupped his chin in his hand, staring into the desperate green eyes, "Good boy. Rough lips crashed against his, forcing a kiss, making the young man moan, lust and want growing in  
his groin again. The man smiled against his lips and reached down and rubbed him, receiving a whine.  
"Want me to fuck you again?"  
The boy didn't say anything until the chain was pulled and he got slapped.  
"Answer me!"  
"Yes...please..."  
"What was that?"  
"PLEASE!"  
The man smirked and ran a hand over his cheek, "There we go. He pushed Kendall to the ground, chaining him to the wall again.


	2. Self Destruction - James

James sat in the corner of the room, fingers thrumming against his thighs as he sat there. The four walls were bare and empty, except for the shattered mirror on the far side of the room. As soon as he woke up and saw it he had to smash it. There was nothing but him and his bed in the room so seeing the mirror, the one thing that now terrorized him, had freaked him out. He was stuck inside four walls and didn't want to see anything else, let alone his own face. He ran his hands over his face at the  
thought, feeling every part of it. He clawed at it a bit before he dropped his hands to his sides. He would not scar himself again. He couldn't.  
He eyed the broken mirror, the only other thing in the room. He covered his eyes quickly, muttering under his breath. He needed to get out. Get out of the room. He carefully got up and eyed the mirror shards as he headed over to the door. He tried it and only sighed when he noticed that it was locked. He was stuck. He wasn't going to be let out. He wasn't going was stuck inside the four walls. The four blank walls. He pulled at his hair a bit, backing upinto the corner was stuck with the mirror and his own thoughts.  
Thoughts of why he was here.  
He had been locked inside the room after looking into the mirror one day and hating what he saw. All of it. Every part of it. He couldn't take it and wanted to  
scratch out his eyes, tear out his hair, get rid of everything that wasn't good enough. Every time he saw a mirror he only saw the imperfections. Being in the room had helped, but waking up to the mirror had ruined it all. He could see everything that was ruined. Imperfections. Mistakes. Everything that wasn't good enough. His hands twitched again and he quickly behind his face behind them. If he didn't look at the mirror he wouldn't have to worry. But there was nothing to look at in the room.  
Blank walls.  
Everything white.  
Except the mirror.  
That has tings of bright red blood from when he punched it.  
He peeked between his fingers to look at it.  
It was there, taunting him.  
With shards there were more parts of the mirror. Showing more of what was wrong.  
His eyes widened at the realization, that not only did he break the mirror, but he made more.  
And he was stuck inside a room with them.


	3. Knives - Logan

Logan watched blood trickle down his arm from the cut he had made with the knife. The knife was one of his favorites, the first one he ever got. It cut his skin perfectly, he didn't have to saw at it. It made a clean cut, even. The knife had a good feel to the handle and the steel always felt cool, no matter how many times he used it.  
He pressed at the cut, smearing the blood around the cut a bit then licked it off his finger. The coppery taste made him smile a bit, almost more then the feel of the pain  
did. He looked at the cut again and watched it before he took the knife and sliced into his arm again, moaning softly at the feeling of his skin slicing, feeling the blood start to rise and slide down his arm.  
He licked the knife, for once being careful not to slice his tongue, which he chuckled a bit at the  
thought.  
He brought his arm up to his mouth and licked at the cuts, digging his tongue into them a bit, just enough to make him hiss at the pain, but not enough for him to stop.  
He free hand clutched at the knife tight and he stopped them and cut his arm again.  
He closed his eyes and pressed his head back against the wall as he relished in the feeling of the steel slice his skin. More blood slowly flowed down his arm.  
He watched it, taking in the way the light shined off the blood and the blade of the knife. How something so looked down upon was so beautiful in his eyes.  
He grinned at the three new cuts among the many scars on his arms.  
He had lost count of how many times he had taken the very knife in his hand and sliced the skin, scaring it and watching blood dry, the wounds heal. There were too many times. Way too many. Not enough to have made an impact though. He kept doing it, daring to try and see how long till it happened. When would the world go dark?  
He took the knife and cut again,planning on doing it over and over again till he couldn't see straight.


	4. Help -Carlos

Carlos couldn't move from where he was. His wrists and ankles were stuck in shackles that were connected to the wall behind him. He kept pulling and tugging but he couldn't get free. The people that had gone and taken him had made sure he was secured tight to the wall, never getting free. He wanted to call for help from the  
others, but he knew it wouldn't work.  
They wouldn't help.  
They couldn't.  
Not when they were the ones that had attacked him, gagged him, thrown him in a car, then shackled him to a wall in some abandoned house down past the neighborhood they lived in.  
He had tears in his eyes as he tried to get free and think of what to do after he managed it.  
Could he really go and tell his father what his friends had done?  
He slumped into himself as he thought of what he heard them talk about while they had taken him. What they would do.  
Obviously he wasn't the first one. The three had done this before, with a lot of different people.  
James manipulated, Kendall secured, Logan tortured. They all three plotted and planned and hid the operation so well that the young Latino never found out what they had been doing until they had snuck into his room during the night and took him.  
His father had been on the case about the missing people and he knew some of the information, but he never thought that he three best friends were the ones taking and killing people.  
Raping some from the sound of it too.  
And he knew, he just knew, he was going to be next.  
He didn't know if he had done something wrong or if maybe they were playing a joke, but either way, he was frightened.  
He didn't know what he would do if he made it out alive. If he would stay friends with them or run off and hide away.  
If he stayed friends with them he'd be shackled to the whole situation, like he was shackled to the wall right then.  
If he ran off they might come back for him.  
He didn't know what to do.  
But to pull and tug and try to think of a way out.  
But he stopped as soon as he heard foot steps walk into the room and his eyes widened as he saw the three silhouettes in the door way.  
"What do you think you're doing 'Litos?"


End file.
